


Old Running Shoes

by Mkaybuddy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Jack still dresses like shit, M/M, Post-NHL verse, and also, bakery verse, because I'm not creative tbh, speaking of Shit shitty gets a shout out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mkaybuddy/pseuds/Mkaybuddy
Summary: Jack Zimmermann was a single guy, post-NHL, and all caught up on the town gossip. When the building downtown that had been for rent for forever finally sold, he just had to know what was going on inside.





	Old Running Shoes

For the casual NHL legend sight seeing, it may be assumed that Canada was the place to go. Maybe in some posh Tim's by some glittering mansions you'd happen upon some tall, friendly, fighters who were to grown up to grow out their flow. Most of the time, that'd be a solid guess, but the legend most people wanted to see was in Rhode Island, waking up with a bed head and bad breath just like the Average Joe. 

Jack Zimmermann had considered retreating to Canada after his hockey career, but something drew him right back to Providence. The Flaconers had remained one of Jack's favourite teams through the years, and when he'd considered moving back it just felt right. He had season tickets, had met the team, and felt just as home here as he had all of those years ago when he'd just graduated Samwell and was on his first professional team. 

Just like he did back then, he stumbled out of bed, swished around some Listerine, pulled on some neon sneakers, and ran out the door. 

Most of the people in this neighbourhood were moms. Well, they were mostly families with parents around his age and kids younger than he remembered kids could be. Around this time of day, he knew he would see Margaret, James, Carol, and maybe Sam on his run. They'd wave and make passing conversation while trimming the hedges, walking the dog, running the opposite direction, and stretching before their run. That all happened, but one thing was different. Jack usually stopped to stretch thirty minutes in by a closed shop downtown, the sad little "For Rent" sign reminding him of when Jen and Sally moved away and took their ice cream shop with them. Today, though, the sign was replaced with "SOLD!" written half-hazardly, like it was some sort of pleasant surprise to the owner of the building. Jack looked inside as he stretched, trying to picture what could be there one day. He could see it as a bar, or maybe a bakery, or maybe a bookstore. Even a toy store, he thought as a dad passed with his kid in a stroller. Jack got back to running. 

Most NHL stars got married by his age. Jack never dated, never got married, and tried to keep PR from making him do either. He'd been focused on hockey, he always was, and that's what he always said in pressers. People still threw themselves at him, sure, because even at this age he still worked out and still had a great, fantastic, something-to-write-home-about hockey ass. 

Still. Everyone around here was married with kids and it wasn't like Jack wasn't looking, he just wasn't actively looking. There was a difference, even if his best friend Shitty did call him out on that sounding "Mad stupid, brah."

Oh well, he thought as he pulled off his sneakers and leaned on his pristine, barely used counters. He had time to figure all that out. 

\- 

"Jack, come on. I know you've gotta be bored out of your mind. What are you doing, going to PTA meetings?"

"Don't have kids."

"Okay, so then really what are you doing?"

George Martin. Back in college Jack and George used to go on runs when discussing him signing to Providence. Now, years later, they were going on a run discussing getting him on the same payroll yet again, this time just not on the roster. And damn if she didn't have a point. He was a little bored, waiting for something interesting to show up in his life.

Jack had gotten some eyes from his usual morning chatters with his company, but that was only from James who seemed eager to see Jack settle down and let someone, to quote, "enjoy that ass up close and personal." Jack was less concerned about the eyes and more concerned that she was convincing him. 

"You know it'd be great to be back with the Falcs. The team is different, but - ," George started as they paused to stretch by what used to be the closed building. They had to stop a few feet before he normally would because people were moving into the building. Jack admittedly stopped paying his full attention to George as he watched curiously to see what was being created in that nice little space. He had a bet with Margery down the street. She was convinced it was a cupcake-focused bakery, but Jack thought it was more general than that. It wasn't the $20 he cared about, it was the fact that she thought such a prime location would be so perfect for just cupcakes.

"Oh, you're a doll." The words came from a blond guy, a little younger than Jack maybe and quite a bit shorter, talking to a hulking moving guy who was less of a doll more of a GI Joe. The blond continued by pointing the GI to a specific corner of the store with the crate he was carrying in a way that made it obvious this guy would have the answers Jack wanted. 

"One second," he said to George before he stepped forward to the newcomer. "Hey." Jack was wearing a bright smile and had his left hand holding a stitch in his side he usually got on this run. "Settle a bet? My friend Margery thinks this is going to be a cupcake shop. She's wrong, right?"

The blond man looked up and at first, he looked a bit star-struck. Maybe he knew hockey enough to know Jack Zimmermann, which wouldn't be unheard of. He quickly seemed more comfortable when he had something to answer and smiled, bright and friendly. 

"This is a more wide-spread bakery, pun intended. I've been told my pies are the best, but a case could also be made for my preserves. There's also the question of if the mini pies or the full sized pies are better, and I mean cupcakes aren't off the table either," he said, rambling a bit but maintaining a cute, contagious grin the whole time that easily made Jack smile wider. The man chuckled. "I can't limit myself to one baked good, Margery, especially in this location." 

"That's what I thought! The building was too prime of a spot, too opportunistic to stick with one category." This made the blond smile encouragingly, so Jack kept going. "You're the baker then?" 

"I surely am! Eric Bittle," he said, holding out his hand. Jack took it happily. 

"Jack Zimmermann, and this is Georgia Martin." They exchanged assurances of pleased meetings, and Jack took a peak into the future bakery. "Well, I'll leave you to it, Eric. Hopefully I can stop in sometime."

"I'm looking forward to it," Eric said, his smile still friendly. It made Jack wish he could find a way to not awkwardly stay and help set everything up. 

Alas, he and George took off on a run again, George only chirping him with a side glance before going back into how he be an asset to the Falconers off the ice just like he was on.

**Author's Note:**

> Still a WIP but I am working on it! 
> 
> Bug me at http://mkaybuddy.tumblr.com/ about it pals <3 
> 
> (PS I don't have a beta reader and I'm going to come back and edit it when it's all written I apologize for the inevitable mistakes)


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